


Don't Mess With My Detective

by sparkster



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Protectiveness, sherlock bbc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22111039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkster/pseuds/sparkster
Summary: I think we can all agree, when it comes to others insulting John Watson's boyfriend, he can get a bit antsy.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 73





	Don't Mess With My Detective

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if Anderson is out of character in this, lmao.  
> Hope you guys like this :^) Criticism is appreciated!!

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were on their way to a new case that Sherlock had apparently piqued interest in, and of course, John agreed to come with him as always (he was his blogger, of course.) A supposed kidnapping, they said, located at the London Central Elementary School. Sherlock always liked that kind of thing, "It's like a game of Clue, except much more realistic and doesn't defy the laws of deduction." he would say to John whenever he asked him about it. As for John, well, he liked it, too, don't get him wrong, but he mostly enjoyed it as much as he did because he got to stand and deduce next to his boyfriend for the whole case.

Yes, that's right, his boyfriend. Sherlock and John have been dating for about two months, but they still haven't told anybody. Well, except for Mrs. Hudson, but they didn't exactly tell her. What really happened was that she had apparently overheard the two talking about their next date together while bringing them their usual cuppas, and they had to awkwardly explain to her that they weren't ready to tell anyone yet to make sure she wouldn't go blabbing to all of her friends about their relationship, to which she agreed amongst all the squealing she was doing. 

The cab pulled to a stop, tires screeching a bit as they slowed against the rocky street pavement. Sherlock wasted no time opening the door and stepping out, glancing around the area before walking up to some of the other yarders. John sighed, as much as he loved Sherlock (he was still waiting to tell Sherlock that he loved him yet, figuring it was too early,) it was getting a bit irritating paying the cabby every time. He hesitated for a few seconds, but then quickly pulled out his wallet, handing the cabby the price and hopping out of the cab, slamming the door behind him and walking over to stand beside Sherlock.

"Two kids gone, siblings." Lestrade explained. "Parents are over there," he pointed towards the steps, to which the apparent mother and father sat. The mother was weeping into the fathers chest, while he was talking to the officer who was crouching in front of them, probably getting info on the victims. John tilted his head a bit as he studied the melancholy figures, before redirecting his attention back to Sherlock, who was more interested in going inside than the victims parents. 

"Yes, alright, let's go inside then," Sherlock said in his usual flat tone. Lestrade nodded, walking up the steps with Sherlock and John following closely behind. They all walked inside, greeting them with the sight of other yarders already at work investigating. Sherlock sneered, probably at the stupidity of making the other yarders investigate when it was obvious, at least to Sherlock, they weren't going to get anything done.

"Here we are," Lestrade mumbled, stepping up to a classroom door, opening it up. He walked inside, quickly stepping to the side and letting the two get to work. Sherlock walked in, John at his side, and glanced around the room, taking in all the details. One thing was obvious; the room was a mess. Papers scattered pretty much everywhere, crayons on the ground, even a few chairs lay on their backs on the floor. 

"They struggled, and quite a lot, obviously." Sherlock muttered to himself, but loud enough for Lestrade and John to hear. He walked farther into the room, not trying to miss a single thing. John nodded subtly, letting out a soft sigh as he looked around the room, but he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on Sherlock every now and then. What can he say? John thought he looked hot when he was deducing. 

"Yeah, obviously," a voice called out from the doorway, making everybody turn their heads towards the new voice. Sherlock let out a groan once he realized who it was, rolling his eyes. Even Lestrade was a bit annoyed to see the figure.

"What do you want, Anderson? I'm trying to deduce and your idiocracy is making it fairly hard to do so," his voice trailed off as he turned around, honestly trying to rid Anderson from his thoughts. John couldn't blame him, Anderson was a bit of a nuisance to everybody really, but when it came to Sherlock, he seemed to be extra annoying. Anderson crossed his arms, walking in the room and furrowing his eyebrows.

"I'm not an idiot, thank you." he replied sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at the at-work consulting detective, who then let out another quiet groan. John could really beg to differ.

"Mm, no." was Sherlock's curt reply. John pursed his lips and bit the inside of his cheek, glancing around as he tried to stifle his laughter.

"S'cuse me? The only idiot in this room would be you, Holmes," he retorted, shifting his weight. John sighed, turning to Anderson. 

"Alright, calm down," John spoke up, not eager to hear him insult his boyfriend. Lestrade nodded, knitting his eyebrows together as he watched the scene unfold. He wasn't really in the mood to see another argument break out between the two, it was daily now that happened, really.

"Oh, yes? How would that be, Anderson?" Sherlock asked sarcastically, not even turning around to talk to the man. Instead, he was busy investigating the two lunches by the cubbies. John looked over, seeing Sherlock looking inside the lunchboxes, probably at their contents. 

"I mean, look at you! Inspecting the insides of lunchboxes like it'll do anything," he sneered, gesturing to Sherlock. Sherlock sighed and turned to Anderson, a very unamused facial expression put on his face. John bit the side of his lip. "a bit of a useless thing to do if you ask me, really." Anderson rolled his eyes. John exhaled slowly, turning to Anderson once again.

"It's not useless," he pursed his lips and he looked at Anderson with irritated, yet threatening, eyes. "It's actually what you and the other yarders should be doing instead of bloody mellowing about all the time during a case," John said, trying to suppress his anger as much as possible. He glanced at Sherlock, who was staring at John with obvious knowing eyes. He was a genius with body language, so it was obvious to him that he was angry by his clenched fist and how he tapped his foot on the ground vigorously.

"Mellowing about? I do a lot more than that, Watson, more than you. What do you do, again? Follow your freaky boyfriend around and blog about your little outings, yeah?" Anderson teased, smirking as he looked John directly in the eye. John furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head a bit, pursing his lips. He took another glance at Sherlock, who was watching the scene with a blank face, yet John knew he was deducing what would happen next, and quickly looked back at Anderson.

"Yeah, um, for your information, he's not freaky," John said, not denying that Sherlock was his boyfriend. Before Anderson could respond, John scrunched up his face, reeled his hand back, and sent it flying forward; right in the center of Anderson's mug. Anderson grunted, thrown off by the sudden infliction of pain, and fell down, landing with his back pressed up against the open door with his knees up to his chest. Lestrade gasped and grabbed John by the shoulders, who was contemplating whether to hit him again, and held him in place. 

"Jesus, John!" Lestrade exclaimed, staring at Anderson at the floor. He had his hand over his nose, and kept checking with his other to see if blood was coming out of it- which blood was not. Sherlock smirked, but quickly rid his face of it, brushed himself off and walked over towards them, standing next to John.

"He's bloody brilliant, so I suggest you don't talk fouly of him again." John said, his eyes piercing into Anderson's scared and vulnerable ones. Anderson quickly looked away, bringing his knees a little closer to his chest. Sherlock chuckled.

"Yes, I really am, aren't I?" he said lowly, glancing at Anderson. Lestrade let go of John, standing beside him with still shocked, but slightly calmed down, eyes. "Well, then," Sherlock then placed his hand on John's shoulder, slightly turning him and leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the lips before standing back up straight and reeling his arm back by his side. That regained the shocked look on Lestrade's face. "Let's be off, shall we?"

"Uh, yes. Yes, let's get going," John said after a second, snapping out of his short trance he was put in because of the kiss. He turned around and nodded towards Lestrade before heading out the door. Sherlock followed after, but stopped at the doorway.

"Don't act like you didn't see this coming, Graham-"

"Greg."

"It was quite blatantly obvious John and I were a couple, but I suppose even you couldn't have deduced that. Even Mrs. Hudson was able to. Take care, then," he gave a slight wave before jogging after John out of the building, not bothering to say goodbye to Anderson. Lestrade looked out of the doorway at the empty hall with a vacant stare, eyes opened wide, before eventually turning back to Anderson. He looked up at Lestrade with a defeated look.

"He bloody punched me,"

"He didn't even try to solve the case,"


End file.
